Have you ever looked back on your life and thought about how much you’ve deceived yourself over the years?
Most of us in recovery have had that moment—when the clouds start to part and we realize how much we were caught up in a story that wasn’t true. Maybe it was believing that we needed a substance to feel normal, or that we were broken beyond repair. Maybe it was confusing fleeting pleasure for real happiness.
In yoga philosophy, that kind of misunderstanding is called avidya – a Sanskrit word that means not seeing clearly or spiritual ignorance. It’s one of the core causes of suffering outlined in the Yoga Sutras (2.3), and it’s something every human wrestles with, not just those in recovery. But when you’re walking the path of healing from addiction, avidya can feel especially familiar.
What Is Avidya, Really?
Avidya isn’t just about not knowing something. It’s more about misperceiving – taking the impermanent to be permanent, mistaking the non-self for the self, seeing pain as pleasure, and assuming the impure is pure. Sound familiar?
Addiction thrives in that kind of confusion. We chase a drink, a hit, a relationship, or a distraction thinking this will finally make us feel better. But the relief is temporary, and the deeper need—the need to be seen, safe, whole—goes unmet. That’s the cycle. That’s avidya.
Yoga as a Light in the Fog
What I love about yoga is that it doesn’t shame us for being confused. It understands that suffering happens when we don’t see clearly, and it offers tools to help us see better. Yoga gives us both the why and the how—a framework to understand our pain, and a path to move through it.
Through breath, movement, and meditation, we start to notice things we hadn’t seen before. Our habits. Our reactions. The way we tense up when someone says something that touches an old wound. Yoga doesn’t fix everything overnight, but it does shine a light—sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once.
One of the most healing aspects of my own practice has been learning to pause. In that pause, I can witness my thoughts and feelings instead of being swept away by them. I can start to ask, Is this really true? Do I have to believe this? That’s the beginning of insight—vidya.
Recovery as a Path of Clarity
In many ways, recovery and yoga are traveling the same road. Both ask us to become honest with ourselves. Both help us loosen the grip of our ego and open to something greater—whether that’s called Higher Power, Atman, or simply the truth.
In the 12-step model, the idea of a “spiritual awakening” comes as the result of working the steps. That awakening isn’t always dramatic—it can be subtle. A moment of compassion where we used to feel resentment. A clearer sense of who we are. A softening of judgment, toward ourselves and others.
These are signs that avidya is lifting. And yoga helps that process by giving us daily practices to reconnect with what’s real.
Tools That Build Clarity
- Asana (movement): Helps move stuck energy and brings us back to the present moment—where real insight can arise.
- Pranayama (breath): Regulates the nervous system and gives us space between stimulus and response.
- Meditation: Helps us observe the mind without getting caught in it. Regular meditation is linked to increased awareness, emotional regulation, and reduced relapse risk in people recovering from addiction (Bowen et al., 2014).
- Svadhyaya (self-study): Encourages reflection. In recovery, this aligns beautifully with personal inventory work.
The Truth Sets Us Free
As we practice, we start to see more clearly—not just the world around us, but also ourselves. We realize we are not our thoughts, our cravings, or our past. We’re not broken. We’re whole, and always have been. That’s the real insight yoga offers.
We’re not promised a life without hardship, but we are given a way to navigate it with more grace. And the more we practice, the more we can live from a place of clarity rather than confusion.
So the next time you step on your mat, remember: you’re not just stretching your body. You’re stretching your capacity to see. And that, my friend, is the heart of healing.